


Drops of Jupiter

by seb



Series: Starboy [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Celestial Bodies, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Me Making It Up As I Go, Multiple Orgasms, POV Second Person, Starboy AU, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb/pseuds/seb
Summary: Dirk is a literal celestial body.Jake likes to visit him, the fireflies like to whisper to him.What started as a theme sprint for the prompt "stars" and blew up astronomically.





	Drops of Jupiter

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, thank you Rim for encouraging me to make this a Thing rather than just a little drabble.  
> Thank you so much to the StriLonde server for being so supportive and interested in my silly AU!
> 
> This was supposed to be the first 886 words. Then THIS happened. I'm having so much fun and can't wait to write more. Look out for a 50k series about this AU, gosh.

You drive out here every night, but it feels different each time. Like the trees are shifting each time you sleep. The road never changes, worn with tire marks that suspiciously match your trusty ol’ Jeep’s perfectly. Your canvas bag in the passenger’s seat rattles and tips to the side, and you have to slow down as you lean over to reposition it. You should have listened to Jane when she told you to put in the back. Maybe next week.

You come up on the clearing soon enough, parking your car by the treeline and retrieving your bag from the other side, hoisting it over your shoulder and locking the doors. You found a cub in your driver’s seat once before you learned not to make that mistake again. Anywho, that’s not something to worry about now. The sun has finally set, which means you’re late! You quickly get your equipment out of your bag, setting up the telescope in the meticulous way you were told to. Loosen the lock knobs, turn the optical tube to about two o’clock, tilt until the eyepiece is level with the bottom of your breastbone, tighten the lock knobs. You forgot your stool, blast it, so you lean down, and—

There.

There he is.

Beautiful as ever, and just as bright. He moves like molasses, dripping fingertips sweeping across the night sky, waving hello. He always knows when you’re watching.

“Hello, gorgeous,” you breathe, scrabbling for the notebook at your feet. The worn leather catches against your calluses as you click the latch open, the crinkle of the papers loud in the silence of this breathtaking moment. Seeing him strikes you with wordlessness, and for a moment you forget what you’re doing, just watching.

He makes a movement with his fingers, as if he as tapping on a surface. Celestial bodies can get impatient, eh?

You fish a pen out of your pocket and begin your conversation for the night. _Rise and shine, love,_  you write. The air around you shudders as he breathes, the stars he’s composed of twinkling, expanding, before fading out. When he blinks back into view, he’s smiling. You watch in awe. There are galaxies in that smile— other _beings,_  he’s told you.

 _You’re late, Jake,_  he notes. The script is shining, curved delicately below yours. You scoff. You’re well aware, you don’t need him admonishing you. You write as much in your notebook, and you feel him laugh. _Just observing. Can I not do what you do to me?_

 _Now Dirk,_  you begin, and tap your pen on the page. Where do you start? How do you tell a being so otherworldly and beautiful about how their existence affects you? _You’re very different, you know. Made of stars—_

 _The same carbon that creates you, dear,_  he interrupts. _Maybe I’m different to you. Have you ever thought about how different you are to me? How fascinating? You live and breathe and interact with others of your kind every day. I think I’m allowed to be a little curious._

Pish posh. You’re just human. Though— he’s just stars, isn’t he? Living, breathing, ignited balls of gas that gained sentience through some… magical universe bullshit that was discovered hundreds of years ago, and rediscovered by you. _You,_  of all people, get to communicate with him. It’s a selfish thing.

 _Sorry to keep you waiting,_  you settle on, sheepish. You’re the only person he talks to. Maybe he was scared you wouldn’t come to tonight, even though you’ve never bailed on him. Not since the day you met him. _Any gossip?_

 _Feeling rested,_  he says, followed by a pause. _Ready to get out of here._

 _In time,_  you reply. Looking away from your setup, you find flowers at your feet. Dead asters, elegant birds of paradise, blooming carnations. As they grow before your very eyes, fireflies escape from them, surrounding you. The air caresses your skin, and you close your eyes, giving your body up to the universe for a moment. You can still see the image of him behind your eyelids: golden and dazzling, the empty space behind him a canvas for him to paint himself on. He is everything and nothing all at once, and he’s chosen you to be absolutely enamored with. The fireflies tickle your skin as they pass over it, blinking to get your attention. You open your eyes once more.

 _That time can’t come soon enough,_  Dirk’s written. _It works, see? See all I can do when you’re with me? And it doesn’t even tire you. Jake—_

“Dirk,” you say aloud, and his writing stops. The notebook is for courtesy, but this is important. “I promise you we’ll find a way for you to come down soon. I know it must be awful lonely up there all by yourself. I do indeedy have the energy to keep you down- to keep you with me. We’re just waiting on the moon.”

 _Well I wish she’d hurry up,_  he says. You laugh, taking a firefly into your palm. It calms in your grasp, as do the others, settling on you. You swear some nights you hear them whisper your name, the trees shaking for your touch, the Earth rumbling— Dirk, aching for you.

You wish the moon would hurry up into the shadows too.

 

☾☰☼☰☼☰☽

 

The closest total lunar eclipse comes on a Friday. July 27th. You mark your calendar and clean your room— your whole apartment, actually. Have to look right for… a freaking celestial body, Christ. And not any celestial body, but your friend- boyfriend? Boy… body? Bodyfriend?

Damn it, there’s no _time_  for this. The sun’s starting to set and you haven’t even packed your things. You check to make sure everything’s in your bag: telescope, notebook, crystals, flowers… there’s something you’re missing. What are you missing? Your glasses are on your face, your phone is in your pocket. Water! Water. Dirk said you would need water. Lots of it. You grab a gallon jug out of your fridge and make a note on your shopping list to get more. A lot more.

You put everything in the back, safe and secured with seatbelts, and make the drive to the clearing up in the mountains. You probably should have brought towels. What if he… leaks? Do stars leak? Shit, what if he lights things on fire? Your apartment is not fireproof.

No, no, he’s just… this is going to be fine. You trust him. He’s done this before, surely. You don’t know why he’d ever go back after coming down, but he sounded so definite. You tap your fingers along the wheel of your car nervously. You don’t even know what you’re more nervous about— making a complete blundering mess out of this or meeting him. You don’t know what would happen if you were to make a mistake. Would he be lost in space and time, stuck in the sky forever? Would you be destroying any way of communication with him? Damn it, you’re only making yourself more nervous.

You arrive, removing everything you need from the back of your car and into the clearing. Dirk has provided you with a tree stump, as promised, to make this as cinematic and aesthetically pleasing as possible. He called you a dork, you called it science.

There isn’t much to set up, which is surprising, since you’re defying physics, introducing a celestial body to the Earth, and giving him a corporeal form. Bismuth and amber among long, fresh stems of queen anne’s lace. Ammolite and snapdragon for color, and your own good luck charms. You don’t know where to put the aventurine and jasper, but it’s too late to ask, so you set the latter on the formation and flip the former in your hand, settling in front of the stump. Your jug of water is right next to you. The sun is nearly done dipping down behind the horizon. This is it. It’s been months of distant conversations with no voice, and now you’ll be able to _feel_  him.

You feel it happening before anything else. The air buzzes next to your ears, thick with something akin to electricity, but more than that. Pure energy, you think. Atoms themselves, crashing into each other too fast to keep silent. You’re throwing the universe out of whack and you don’t even care. You close your eyes, and focus on the face that has (almost literally) been burned into your memory.

When you peek your eye open for a moment, you almost lose focus. There is light all around you, emitting from the items you brought, coming from _thin air,_  and collecting in front of you. The shape of two human feet, two human calves, made of pure light. It hurts to watch, so you close your eyes again. Your mouth is dry, your head pounding, the heat is so much to bear all at once. You can almost hear the moon squeal with delight, resting in her eclipsed state. Time has stopped. Everything has stopped save for your heart hammering away in your chest.

All at once it began, and all at once it ends. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and gulp in air. You hear a laugh at that and go still.

You open your eyes a millisecond before Dirk crashes into you. He’s warm and golden, pale hair and skin with burning orange irises, and he’s _right there._  His skin is touching yours, hot like a fever, like you need to get him in bed at this moment— oh, shucks. You blush and hide it in his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. He’s babbling into your ear, hiccuped words of joy. _It worked, it worked, I love you, I’m here, it’s beautiful—_

“Of course it worked,” you say, pulling your face away from his skin. He’s smiling, head tilted as he listens to you, the loose strands of his silky hair falling to frame his face. He’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, his voice like water down a stone-ridden river, raspy and smooth, soft and loud, everything and nothing, all at once. “You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“Jake,” he says, laughter biting at the end of the word. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never- I’ve never had reason to. I never had _you._ ”

You think.

You think that might settle the whole boyfriend thing.

You kiss him. You shift a hand to parse gently through his hair and kiss him, right on those rosy lips of his. He lets out an utterly delighted noise, his arms tightening around your shoulders, his hands smoothing across your shoulderblades. When he pulls away to breathe- must be a novel experience, needing oxygen- you dive in to kiss his face, his cheeks, across his nose, up to his forehead. You pull away to look at him and watch his freckles _dance_  across his skin, constellations forming and reforming on his face.

“The stars are looking awfully beautiful tonight,” you blurt out. He smiles, open-mouthed and dazzling. There must be galaxies inside of him. Somewhere in his left pinky, your heart is going a million miles a minute, and he can feel it in real time. He can hear you in real time. You can _taste_  him in real time.

You take his hand, kiss his knuckles. Sunspots shrink and expand on his wrist, the back of his hand. Your hand falls to his waist and he sits back on your legs, looking around. This is all new to him, you realize. He’s contained all of this and more but seeing it in front of him must be overwhelming. You slip your hand beneath the hem of his shirt- he manifested with clothes on, thank heavens- and rub the skin of his hip. He hums, watching the trees shake in the wind. His thumb rubs the side of your neck.

“This is amazing,” he breathes. His stars sparkle and he looks like he’s glowing, a soft yellowish hue around his features. Or maybe that’s just you. Your lips find his skin again, gravitating towards his neck, his jaw. He closes his eyes and melts against you, pliant in your hands. What supernova are you caressing? What black hole meets your lips?

He perks up after a few moments, looking around. He leans back, fiddling with the items on the stump, and you take the opportunity to snatch up the water jug and down a quarter of it. You’re parched, but it’s worth it. Dirk comes back with the jasper in his hands, fishing for the aventurine that fell out of yours when he tackled you. You watch as he produces two thin chains from the palm of his hand. Mystified, you hold your hands out at his prompting as he drops them. They’re hot to the touch.

“These-” Dirk begins, pressing his fingernail into the jasper. It burns a hole right through- “will help with the energy exchange.” He picks up a chain from your palm and feeds it through the hole in the stone. Once it’s on, he slips the chain around your neck and clips it shut. “ _Never_  take it off, you understand? Shower with it, sleep with it. Leave the rest of the stuff-” he gestures back to the stump- “here. It’s very important, Jake.”

You nod, not wanting to break the moment. He burns a hole through the aventurine the exact same way he did with the jasper, threading the chain through and putting it around his own neck. When he puts his hands on your shoulders, the heat that surely was there is gone, replaced by the warmth of the iron undoubtedly running through his veins. He’s made of stars and dust and the same atoms you are, but he’s otherworldly. With the backdrop of the night sky, it feels too out of place— like a memory with everything shifted slightly to the left, except now he’s real, he’s in your space, you can hear him breathing, feel the shape of his hand as it rests over your heart.

“Come on, love,” you say, patting his hip. He stands up shakily— oh. Oh dear lord above, he’s never walked before. Like a baby deer, he stumbles back, and you can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of you as you catch his hands. He blushes, cooling stars exploding across his cheeks. You hop up, slipping an arm around his back and kissing his head. Not being able to walk does nothing to rid him of his curiosity, as he pulls you along to run his hands along every stone, leaf, and critter he can find. Crickets chirp for him, opossums curl at his feet in the middle of the road, leaves shiver off of branches to touch him. You know the feeling.

You let him lean against your car as he caresses the trunk of a tree. The ants climbing up it part for his fingers. An owl on a low branch coos as he glances at it, and he lets out a coo in response. Your heart clenches as he reaches to pet it, the fence pressing into his abdomen as he tries to get as far as possible. You decide to let him be, leaving to collect your water and bag and put them in the back seat. Looking back up, you find him watching you. You raise an eyebrow and he raises one in response. When you close the door, he startles, nearly falling again.

“Easy, cowboy,” you laugh, making your way back around the car to grab his hands. You pull and he doesn’t budge, pulling you back with surprisingly just as much strength. You fall into him and he kisses you, grinning against your mouth. You press him back against the car, pinning his hands to the hood as you press your lips to each corner of his. He whines, chasing after you, and you chuckle low, nudging his nose with yours. You’re very close right now, aren’t you? Are you sweating? He runs his hand down your arm and tilts his head, opening his mouth and fitting it against yours. Oh _golly,_  he’s warm and urging and wanting and you accommodate him, open your mouth to meet his tongue. Kissing someone has never felt like this before, never felt like sparks along your skin and colors not only behind your eyes but swirling in your head, stars born and dying under your fingertips. You’re holding the universe, kissing a boy who could flood the world with his tears, and you’ve never felt so safe.

“I think,” he says, parting for air. His eyes are closed and he’s licking his lips, savoring the taste of you. A shudder runs down your spine. “I’d like to go back to your place, now.”

Say no more. You escort him to the passenger’s side, introducing him to worn leather seats and a frayed seatbelt, the hard plastic of the glovebox digging into his shins. As you hop into the driver’s seat, you remember your gift for him and fish it out of the back: a bouquet of daffodils, with two roses hidden between them. The stems are still dripping and there’s likely a puddle on the floorboards, but he takes them cheerfully, ignoring the drops staining his pants as he inhales deeply and coughs, most likely breathing in pollen. You laugh as you start up the car, your hand falling to his thigh once you get into the motion of driving. Like a magnet, you’re attracted to him, unable to keep your hands off. He doesn’t mind, resting his hand on yours for the entire drive, playing idly with your fingers.

It takes too long to get to your apartment. You’d be bounding up the stairs if it weren’t for your need to make sure Dirk didn’t fall down them. He gets the hang of it pretty easily, one hand holding yours and the other on the rail as he climbs them faster and faster, just as excited as you are. There’s anticipation buzzing under your skin, and if you focus hard enough you can see flares bouncing off of Dirk’s skin, his stone-cold expression masking nothing. The door swings open in record time, and you dump your stuff at your doorstep, turning to face Dirk and touch him, kiss him, take him at the very threshold at your apartment—

But you stop, because he’s staring right at you, wonderstruck. “I’m going to put these in water,” you gush, hurrying to the kitchen with the flowers. You prepare a vase with water and plant food, whatever the hell composes that, and take a minute to breathe. The universe is in your living room. No, _Dirk_  is in your living room. The boy you’ve loved for months. What has you feeling so trepidatious?

“Jake,” Dirk calls out softly. You poke your head out of the kitchen. He’s halfway across your living room, leaning heavily on the wall— fuck, you forgot he couldn’t walk entirely on his own. You hurry to meet him and he snakes his arms around your neck, smiling softly, a little timid. “Hello,” he breathes, keeping his face a moderate distance from yours. That won’t do. You kiss his forehead and he melts into your touch. “Feeling alright?”

“A little starstruck,” you admit. He snorts, cupping your jaw to run his thumb along your cheekbone. You imagine he feels the same way. It’s a strange experience, holding him where you spent so long just watching and learning. And to think it’s entirely different for Dirk, with this being the first time he’s ever experienced the feeling of touching someone and it’s _you._  You with your secretive, hidden ways of visiting the clearing, you and your bad jokes and green eyes and toothy smile. He loves you, just as you love him. You watch the same thoughts flit through his mind through his stunning eyes and kiss him chastely. Your hands, however, defer from the sentiment, sliding to his ass and squeezing as you whisper: “Jump.”

He does, out of shock more than anything else, his legs coming to wrap around your waist. He whistles— or, tries to, a pathetic, soft sound escaping from between his teeth as he leans away from you. You raise a brow and swing him around to get him scrabbling to be nearer to you, followed by a raspy, “ _That’s_  more like it.”

“Oh, Jake,” he says, feigning a faint expression, “you truly move me. I’ve been positively ravished by your eyes, these hands, that filthy mouth. How will I make it? What will the universe do without me?”

“The universe will be just fine, methinks,” you utter, carrying him to your room. You press your mouth to the skin of his collarbone, exposed by the loose cut of his shirt. Your tongue follows and Dirk’s mouth snaps shut as a shiver runs through him. “Just a bit frazzled.”

“ _Indeed,_ ” he murmurs, quiet, latched onto you. His chin rests atop your head and you can feel his heart pounding. You toe open the door to your room, pausing to let him sweep his eyes over it. You hear him breathe as he looks over each movie poster, each photo of your dazzling blue ladies, the clutter that makes up your desk, even after you cleaned. Walking over to your bed, you let go of him and he drops, bouncing slightly. His cheeks are already darkening, legs fidgeting as they spread further for you. For _you._  You don’t think you’ll ever get over that.

“You’re wonderful,” you say, leaning down to kiss him. He chases you as you go, shivering again as your hands land on his thighs. His fingers curl nervously in the sheets, white-knuckled grips pulverizing planets. “Do you want this?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to elaborate, Jake,” Dirk deadpans, and you blink.

“I—”

“Do I want what, exactly? This body? This life, with you? Your apartment?”

“Well!” you exclaim, flabbergasted by his boldness. It’s been a while since he brandished his invulnerability with you. “I was insinuating me making love to you in my question, thanksmuch! Not sure if I’d want to with such a smartass, though.”

“Make love to me?” Dirk questions, and though he’s being a dick, his eyelashes flutter, and you feel his pulse quicken. “That’s awfully intimate. You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet.”

“ _Yet,_ ” you parrot, leaning back in to kiss his eyebrow. He shuts his mouth and swallows, loud in the silence of the night and your room. You hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants and he nods, placing his hands on yours as he pushes down. You extend your thumbs to shamelessly cop a feel and yeah. _Yeah,_  there he is, stiffening despite your banter under your touch.

“Gorgeous,” you say, and he swats at your arm. “What? You are.” You kiss down his temple, to his cheek as you pull his pants down his thighs, let them fall to his ankles so he can kick them off. Your lips skip across his skin to his ear, delicately taking it between your teeth and tugging. “I’ll make you believe it,” you murmur, and his nails dig into the skin of your forearm.

You stand straight to take off your shirt and Dirk reaches out to touch you, tracing the visible part of your apollo’s belt and upward, over your happy trail and bellybutton. Now _that_  spikes his interest as he sticks a finger in it, mildly tickling you, and hurries to take off his own shirt, pressing a finger to his own navel as well. You drop your shirt, trying to fight the smile taking over your face. You’ve got a half-chub in your pants but you can’t get over the wonder in every move Dirk makes, how joyous it makes you that you get to watch him experience this. He looks up, grinning, before realizing you still have shorts on. He makes quick work of that, eagerness winning over the struggle to unbutton them and shoving them down to mingle with his pants on the floor.

Good. Now you’re on the same playing field. You bring your knee up to rest next to his thigh, between his legs, and he scooches back, making space for you. You give him one better, falling right over him and into his space, enveloping him in your shadow. He still glows. It’s not just you. He’s lovely, flickering freckles playing out on his sun-kissed skin, his eyes darting from one part of you to the next. His hair rests like a halo around his head, lithe body lax on your sheets, clad only in a pair of— white boxers with goldfish on them, interesting choice. You rest your hand on his abdomen, splay it wide to watch light pour through your fingers and Dirk’s breath catches. You lean down to kiss him, deciding you’ve had enough emotional foreplay, and unceremoniously shove your tongue into his mouth the first moment you can.

He groans, arching into your touch and wrapping his arms around your shoulders once more. You trace the shape of his mouth with your tongue, each immaculate tooth subject to your claim. He tilts his head and lifts his chin to meet you halfway, gripping your sides like a lifeline. The stone around your neck clinks against his and you have to take a second to breathe, panting heavily with your forehead pressed against Dirk’s. His lips are bruised already, swollen and slick with saliva— yours or his, you don’t know, and the thought makes your cock throb. Where are you in him and how can you shift the weight of the galaxy to make it known that he is yours?

You lower your hips to press against his and he hisses. You’re reminded of the fact that he’s never done this before, that every sensation is revolutionary, every nerve ending alight like it’s never been because it’s never been before this night. He whines as you grind down on him, scratching across the planes of your back. “Fu- _uuck,_ ” he lets out between nearly clenched teeth. He lets go of your shoulder with one hand, scrabbling for his boxers. You grab his wrist, pinning it next to his head, and he moans.

“I don’t think so, pretty,” you say, kissing his cheek. His eyes flutter as he chases your lips, but you don’t give in. His hips buck desperately, so you press his hand into the bed for emphasis before reaching down to dip the elastic of his waistband below his dick. It’s… extraordinary, to say the least. It would be completely normal, had it not been the changing colors of his skin, like Jupiter’s gaseous atmosphere, and the _rings_  climbing up his shaft. You wrap your hand around it experimentally, and it tickles your palm— you read in you gran’s books that Jupiter’s atmosphere contained crystals. You wonder just how much she _knew._

With a huff, Dirk pulls at your hair, and you meet his eyes. He’s been worrying his bottom lip, a deep intent in the shape of his front teeth indicating his apprehension. You kiss him quickly, plucking his lip from between his teeth and sucking it between yours instead. When you let go, you kiss away the furrow of his brow. “Does yours not look like that?” Dirk questions, and you smile.

“Mine’s a bit more plain, I’m afraid,” you respond, releasing your grip on him to pull your boxers down. In fact, you sit up to remove yours and his completely. No more barriers. You give yourself a quick pump, letting him lean up to look. The admiration in his eyes is enough to boost anyone’s ego, your shoulders setting back and chin leaning up as he runs an exploratory finger from your tip to your base. You try not to buck into the touch, achingly hard and wanting nothing more than to bury yourself in him- his mouth, his hand, his ass, if that’s an option. His dick is pretty enough, you can’t help but wonder what else is going on down there.

You take his hand from your dick and press it beside his head again and he whines, pouting up at you. Instead of kissing it away, you line up your dick with his and push. He gasps, bucking against you and crying out when the motion presents him with even more friction. His hips follow yours, a wave of motion as you grind down on him. It’s not enough, so you reach down to take both of your dicks in one hand, slotting your fingers between the rings and pumping slowly. He grips the sheets, entire body shuddering as he fucks into your fist. You thrust against him, quickening the pace as his whines get shorter and higher pitched, until he’s coming, stardust shooting from his tip and splattering on his stomach. You let go of your own dick and milk the orgasm out of him, pushing the rings up one by one until they’re bunched under the head and he’s squirming in your grip.

You’re ready to call it a night when he grabs your hand and presses it to his lips, licks the sparkling cum off your fingers. His tongue is burning hot, and the fluid dissolves the moment it touches it. You press your fingers into his mouth and he nods, sucking shallowly on them. You watch his hand swipe over his stomach and the stardust disappears, into another part of the universe, you suppose, just like the chains had to have come from _somewhere._

“I’m not finished with you just yet,” you say, testing the line. Dirk groans, deep and throaty, and his dick twitches where it lays on his hip. Taking that as your go, you slip your fingers out of his mouth to pinch his nipples, making him _squeal_  as you simultaneously reach for your nightstand. You swap out lube for your glasses, which have miraculously not fogged as of yet, and grip the bottle to warm it up as much as you can.

“Please, Jake,” Dirk begs, bending his legs and bringing them up, spreading himself wide for you. Christ on a cracker, he’s one hell of a sight, sweaty and fucked-out yet begging for more. Your suspicions are mildly confirmed when you glance down at his hole— an atmospheric storm, by the looks of it, puckered and swirling. His whole undercarriage reminds you of a planet, ever-changing and varying in color, from creme to crimson to the prettiest shades of blue. “I don’t—” he huffs, frustrated, “I don’t know exactly how this works, but there _has_  to be more, tell me how I can make you feel that good—”

“Shhh, you delightful thing,” you murmur, petting his torso. He does absolutely nothing to calm himself, writhing beneath you in wait. “I’ll take care of you.”

Time to give the man what he wants, you suppose. You settle back on your haunches, popping the lid to the lube open and squeezing some out onto your fingers. Dirk watches you intently as you lower your hand between his legs. You press your fingers to his hole and he jolts, sucking in a breath as he looks up at you. You poke and prod at him, leaning down to kiss him before you _really_  start to push. He goes slack-jawed, legs slipping against the sheets as he both tries to work away from and embrace the intrusion. He obediently keeps his hands beside his head, and you reach up to tangle your fingers together, kissing his forehead and murmuring praise as he relaxes for you, takes your finger all the way to the knuckle before you start moving it around.

“Jake,” he calls, and you hum, nudging your nose against his. “Jake, _Jake,_ ” he begs again, and you oblige, pressing another finger to his rim. He stretches easily, taking you up to the knuckle in merely a few moments, and the blissed out look on his face makes you want to stuff him full already, show him what it can _really_  be like. You settle for scissoring your fingers, making him arch his back. He whines when you move, but you can’t help yourself, bending to kiss across his collarbones and the twinkling stars and meteors there. You drag his hand down the bed with you as you make your way down, from his pecs to his waist, where Orion’s belt lays, three bright stars placed delicately on his skin. You tongue the skin where they rest and jab into him and Dirk moans, pushing back onto your fingers while desperately trying to buck his hips up to meet your mouth at the same time.

You add another finger as you move down to his dick, kissing slowly up the shaft. Dirk’s nails bite into the back of your hand as you continue, experimentally wrapping your lips around a ring. You suck gently and Dirk lets out a _sob,_  yanking your hand as he tries to cover his mouth. You press a kiss between the rings, shushing him, and thank the heavens above that you somehow found the best man to love and make love to, one that refuses to disobey you with something as small as muffling the noises he makes. You tongue at the next ring, pushing it up to join the other two closer to the head, and suck on all three at once. Dirk curses, a lovely, drawn out sound, and you give in to temptation, wrapping your lips around the head of his dick. Precum drools out of the tip and onto your tongue, and you’re surprised to find it tingling, what feels like stars dissipating in your mouth. Dirk’s hips buck into your mouth, and two rings slide by your lips, scraping against your tongue. It’s impossibly hot, and you decide enough is enough, giving him one last meaningful suck before pulling off completely, the string connecting your lips to his dick bright like the tail of a comet.

Pulling your fingers from him leaves him whining, scrambling for your hand with his free one. “Need,” he tells you, and you nod, wiping your fingers on your sheets and taking his hand in yours.

“I’ve got you,” you assure him, leaning down to kiss him again. His tongue lolls in your mouth, and you know you’ve hit a chord just right to get him nice and pliant for you, ready and wanting and waiting for anything you’ll give him. And oh, will you give him. You scoot your hips forward, properly leaning over him, and he moans, sparks flying off of him in anticipation. You begrudgingly let go of his hand to pop open the lube again, somehow successfully managing to squeeze some into your palm with one hand, and slick yourself up. A few tugs too many, in Dirk’s opinion, because he whines watching you and wiggles his hips. You chuckle and line yourself up with him, pressing your lips to his forehead as you push forward.

It’s— it’s— incredible. He gives for you in a way no lover has before, slick and smooth like he was made for your cock as you press into him. “Breathe,” you remind him, and he lets out a breath he likely didn’t even know he was holding, gasping. He releases your hands to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer, pressing his face into your shoulder as he shivers and twitches around you.

“Love you,” he murmurs, and you see his eyes close from the corner of yours. The smile on your face is contagious, truly a plague upon humanity, you can’t escape from it. Instead of responding, you pull out of him until he’s just clenching around your tip, and slam back into him. He moans loudly, startled by his own reaction as he blinks his eyes open slowly, sliding his hands around to finally cup your face. His thumb fiddles with your sideburns, fingertips slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck as you lean down to kiss him. You start up a rhythm, pistoning your hips at a quick pace that has him moaning, not hard enough to make him scream but enough for him to babble about how _full he is, feels so good, don’t ever wanna be away from you ever again, I love you, I love you._

“I absolutely _adore_  you,” you whisper against his lips, and he whimpers. You shift your weight to one arm and rest your hand on his chest, feel his heart hammering away in his chest, as you shift your hips and continue thrusting into him. He lifts his legs up further, the universe trying to seem as small as possible, and the angle has you hitting his prostate dead-on. This time, he _does_  scream, pulling on your hair and slamming his hand down on your shoulder. “That’s the ticket,” you say, peppering kisses over his face as tears, real honest to god tears start flowing from his eyes, like cosmic dust and Neptune’s oceans pouring forth in your bed. He calls your name, scratching at your back, and his dick twitches between you both. You’re close and ever a romantic, so you grip his dick, pumping him in time to your thrusts frantically.

It’s only a few tugs and a squeeze around the rings of his cock before he’s coming. You bury yourself in him as he falls apart, body spasming, stars spiraling out of control across his skin, inertia thrown off balance for a precious moment. You fall into him, coming hard, stars shooting across your vision before you realize it’s _not_  just light playing behind your eyelids, but meteors streaking and fizzling out before your very eyes. You shut them and the fireworks still play out, Dirk twitching and moaning beneath you as supernovae explode out against the skin of your chest.

When you open your eyes, you’re stuck by quite the sight. The stars embedded in his skin have… come loose, floating in the air around him, miniscule and void of temperature. You try to run your hand through an asteroid belt and shift nothing but Dirk’s face, bemused even though his eyes are closed. You wonder if he can feel it. You’ll have to test that out later.

Now, though. Now, you pull out of him, much to his dismay, if his whining means anything. He hums, somewhere far, far away in his mind, as you kiss his head, leaning up to step off the bed. The universe he’s emitting expands as if to follow you, and you’re careful to avoid as much of it as possible as you head to the bathroom for a warm face cloth and water— oh, so much water, you are thirsty. You bring a cup back for him and start to clean up, popping the lube back into your nightstand and wiping him down gently. When you’re done, you climb back into bed with him, careful not to shift him too much. The universe has expanded to consume your entire room, and that’s as far as _you_  can see. Taking his hand, you kiss his knuckles, much like you did when he first materialized, and wait for him to come back to Earth.

It takes… well, quite some time. A worryingly amount of minutes pass before he rouses at all, and only to turn on his side into you. You comb through his hair, whispering to him. “Come on, sweetheart,” you say, smudging your thumb through the tear tracks on his face. “Come back to me.”

“Mmm,” he hums, and you let out a breath. A sign of life, finally. “Sleep,” he says, and you laugh, hearty and loud. He cracks an eye open to smile up at you before burying his face in your chest and curling his arms in, crushing himself against you. The universe starts shrinking back into his space, and you watch the stars place themselves across his shoulders, his face, his thighs. You yawn and nod, wrapping your arm around him to pull him close, and in no time, you’re asleep, twinkling stars lulling you further.

 

☾☰☼☰☼☰☽

 

When you wake in the morning, Dirk is still asleep. Existing must be exhausting. You do your best not to wake him as you detangle your limbs climb out of bed, wrapping a blanket around him to keep him warm. Rifling through your drawers, you find some boxers and a shirt to put on your nightstand for Dirk, and sweatpants for yourself. Bec’s laying at your door when you open it, and you nudge him with your foot, your big borzoi boy blocking any means of entry or exit. He doesn’t bother to get up, just as he didn’t bother to be alarmed by a new person waltzing into your home last night, and you shake your head as you step over him and into the kitchen.

The smell of bacon frying as you prepare breakfast has Bec trotting to your side, however, the bastard. You slip him the fatty bits as you crack eggs open in another pan and stick some bread in the toaster. You down three glasses of water throughout the whole process— Dirk wasn’t wrong about needing lots of it, gosh darn. As you reach for plates to serve everything on, you hear a gasp, and you whip your head around to find Dirk at the threshold of your kitchen, hand over his chest as he stares at Bec. “Good morning, sunshine—” you start.

“Is that a horse?” Dirk questions, dropping to sit on his ass in the middle of your kitchen and pet your dog. You nearly drop the pan in your hand as you laugh, doubled over and cackling, having to grab the island for support so you don’t slip and fall.

“ _That,_ ” you wheeze, pointing at him with your pan, “is a dog, dear, and his name is Becquerel.”

“I meant dog.”

“I’m sure you did, my love.”

Dirk’s blushing when he stands back up, red giants filling his cheeks, and you get to work on serving food. He holds a fork and picks at his eggs curiously, head tilting as the yolk breaks and oozes out, filling his plate. You don’t know if he needs to eat, and you don’t know if _he_  even knows if he needs to eat, but having breakfast together is nice. You reach over to hold his hand, and he twines your fingers together without a moment’s hesitation, dropping his utensil to sip at the orange juice you poured for him and humming contentedly.

You clean up the plates when you’re done, letting Dirk wander around the house as much as he can on doe legs. You find him staring an ancient photo of your great-great-great-gran, or something like that, who you just call gran. Your family has felt too disconnected and… normal, to be frank, where gran was remarkable, a force amongst nature. She’s the reason you found Dirk in the first place. Her dusty old box of notes and books that you inherited from your parents and opened out of curiosity brought you here, to this very moment with him standing in front of you. He caresses the frame delicately, reverently.

“Jade,” he says fondly, a private smile settled on his face. He looks to you before taking your hand. “She found me. I was alone for so long, then she was my best friend. She disappeared for decades… and then you came along.”

“I never knew her name,” you admit guiltily. You’ve admired this woman for years and never bothered to know, it’s shameful. “But I’ve followed her work my whole adult life. Her notes led me to that clearing, to you.”

“She was a blessing,” Dirk says, and drops his hand from the picture.

You spend a quiet moment with him, then another. You kiss his head, then a spinning star on his cheekbone. She was a blessing indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated. ♥
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at testifyds ♦


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